Season of the Witch (Claws Clause 2)

She might not recall exactly what she’d been doing before now—obviously sleeping, since she was slowly waking up—but the all-encompassing pain and stiffness racking her body was too damn familiar.

Too far. She’d pushed herself too far. After completely depleting her well of healing, she’d tapped into her own soul to save someone.

Who? She thought she should know. A safe bet was that it was Hudson—it was always Hudson—but then why did she vaguely remember doing… doing something with Colton?

If only her head wasn’t throbbing so terribly, maybe she could make some sense of what had happened to her.

She let out a moan.

As if just thinking about her sexy shifter had conjured him up, she heard his voice echoing in her achy ears.

“Shea. It’s safe now. I’m right here. It’s okay.”

Wait—

That was Colton.

Her eyelids fluttered open. And there he was, slouched in an armchair perched near the foot of her bed.

She was in a hospital bed. That much was clear. From the generic wall art to the blinding fluorescents over her head, the black screen of a television, and the constant beeping of the monitors surrounding her, she knew where she was.

She just didn’t know why.

“Colt… what… what happened?”

He straightened in his seat, scratching at the thick scruff that lined his hard jaw; it was the first time she saw him when he wasn’t perfectly shaved. His movements were careful. Precise. Almost like he expected her to climb out of the hospital bed and run away from him.

That wasn’t even the biggest worry on her hazy, heavy mind. Hospital… squinting against the bright lights overhead, Shea gasped.

“My shields… they’re gone. I can’t be in a hospital—”

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. She was an empath who needed to heal like she needed to breathe. Didn’t matter that she exhausted all of her healing ability. If a sick patient called out to her sensitive nature and she felt them, Shea would try healing them regardless.

“I’ll heal at home. I can’t be around other people while I’m like this.”

“It’s fine, Shea. I swear. So long as we keep the door closed, you’re blocked off from the rest of the other patients.”

Colton didn’t understand that magic didn’t work like that.

She tried to climb out of the bed. “I know you mean well”—and, to her surprise, she did—“but that’s not enough.”

“The wards are. Promise. As soon as they put you in this room, I called in a couple of favors. We’ll have to be careful when the doctors and nurses come and go, but that should give you some time to build up your shield thing. You’re okay for now. So sit back, relax, and rest, damn it.”

Wait—what?

Pushing aside her panic for the moment, she discovered that he was right. Her shields were definitely down, but if she reached out, she came up against a powerful resistance when she hit the door. It was almost as if the two of them were the only two in the whole hospital. And, since she had already let Colton past the gap in her shields, she was used to the background hum of his presence.

Besides, he was an alpha shifter. He had his own guards up. Apart from the worried buzz emanating off of him, he wouldn’t affect her while she was still recovering.

Was she still unconscious? She had to be dreaming. No way would the Colton Wolfe she’d come to know do something so… so thoughtful. Especially since, in order to do so, he would’ve needed one hell of a witch.

“That’s… that’s some powerful magic,” she hedged carefully, not wanting to accuse him of anything—or rip herself out of this strange dream.

Because, yeah. She had to be dreaming.

Colton perched on the edge of the hospital chair, dropping his hand absently, letting it swing in the gap between his muscular thighs. “Luciana promised me a discount the last time I went to her with a request for help. I held her to it. To make sure you were comfortable and safe when you woke up again… it would’ve been worth it.”